The Voice of Home
by Spread A Little Happiness
Summary: He was silent and deadly, with a rumored heart of stone. She was the light to his darkness, his opposite in almost every way. And yet, she was the voice of his homeland, the beauty kept alive in his memories. She was also his best kept secret...
1. Chapter 1

_**Why hello there my lovelies! So yes, I'm starting yet another story! This idea has kept me awake at night and this chapter has been edited so many times I've lost count! :D I tried to keep this idea and character as original as possible. I felt I could definitely have some fun with the knights since their characters weren't fully developed in the movie in my opinion! The style of this story most likely won't be in first person although some chapters may resort to it. For the most part there will be no main point of view as it gives me a little bit more freedom to work with the characters!**_

**DISCLAIMER: I clearly do not own King Arthur. Everything belongs to the respective owners. I gain nothing from this bar some entertainment and a chance to improve my writing. I do, however, own my character Kyrie and this plot!**

_**So yeah, this story might be a little confusing at first but I promise all questions will be answered. If the knights seem a little OOC I'm sorry but I don't think any of their characters are really set in stone bar maybe Arthur and Lancelot who had the most developed characters in the movie. It's a good thing though because it gives me lots of room to play around! **_

_**Anyway, on with the story! I give you chapter one of The Voice of Home! Enjoy dear readers!**_

**The Voice of Home – Chapter One **

It was cold, as it always was in the morning. The dew and mist from the night before still clung to the foliage of the forest and the blades of grass in the fields. The sky was a clear, pale grey and the colour stretched, uninterrupted by clouds, above the canopy of the forest until it steadily grew to a darker shade in the west. The light was eerie, casting shadows across the tress and landscape, creating shapes of demons and monsters that weren't actually there. A slight zephyr brushed passed the leaves and needles of green but left the silence of the morning undisturbed. The only sounds that broke the quiet were the soft hoof beats of a gelding and its huffing breath as it carried its master through the trees.

The rider that sat atop this Sarmatian warhorse had just passed his twenty-fourth summer. His trained eyes searched the forest, the scabbard of his sword that was strapped to his saddle, tapped lightly against his thigh as the two moved deeper into the forest. Of course, if he was attacked, his bow would be the first weapon of choice, his aim deadly and true. But the area was quiet and even the animals were still resting, those that hunted at night returning to their homes before the sun brightened the entire sky. Not many woke at this hour, greeting the sun like an old friend. And those who did hardly ever rise at the same hour every morn, beginning their day while the rest of the world remained in slumber for another few hours.

The screech of a hawk disturbed the silence and the rider's dark gaze was drawn to the hunting bird that circled above him. A low whistle passed through his chapped lips and a moment later the bird swooped to perch on his outstretched arm, her talons bracing her on his forearm. His leather glove protected his darkened skin from harm and he raised his other arm, protected by just his tunic, to draw two long fingers lazily down the back of her head and neck. She screeched again and nibbled at his exposed fingers, her beak never breaking his flesh.

"I've nothing for you." He mumbled softly in a language that was not of this land.

She seemed to stare indignantly at him before she was tossed back into the air, her powerful wings carrying her far above the reaches of the trees. With a final screech she disappeared into the darkness of the west, her dark feathers blending well with the shadows. The rider tried to follow her but even his sharpened gaze eventually lost sight of her. His shoulders tensed slightly as a noise sounded behind him. It was faint but he was able to pick it up; the soft shifting of weight on a tree branch.

A moment later he was tackled from his horse and he turned so he landed on his side, his large hand rising to protect the person's head from hitting the ground. He rolled to lessen the impact, the damage of the fall minimal. Body over body the two rolled until they came to a stop, the rider flat on his back on the ground. He gazed impassively up at the young woman who sat on his hips, a triumphant grin stretched across her muddied face.

"Got you" She teased, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder and swirling in a heavy pool across his chest. Her blue eyes, so like the ocean that separated them from home, were shining brightly.

Her smile faltered for a moment when she felt a cold tip of steel pressed against her exposed sternum where her ripped tunic failed to conceal her delicate flesh. Frowning, she glanced down at the small dagger that was being held lightly against her skin, the blade steady and controlled. A pout took place of the once arrogant smile as she turned her gaze back to the rider.

"It would appear, m'lady, that I have you." He spoke in raspy, deep tones with an accent not possessed by the native people and he seemed pleased with himself, a rare smirk twisting one corner of his lip slightly upwards.

She snorted at the title and smacked his chest playfully. His dagger remained in place as she sat across his hips, smiling down at him, managing to still see his eyes beneath the strands of hair he refused to cut. They waited, to see which of them would break first. Eventually, she huffed and rolled off him until she was by his side in the still slightly wet grass, staring up at the shelter of leaves above them. The dagger was returned to its hiding place.

"How do you do it Trissie?" She asked, ignoring his low, almost feral, growl at the nickname she had given him years ago.

"Do what?" He humoured her even though he knew exactly what she was talking about, his eyes closing lazily, reminding her of a cat basking in the sun.

"Know everything!" She was exasperated, a fact that amused the scout. "Was I very loud?"

"Very." Even though his tone sounded solid and stoic she knew him well enough to know that he was teasing her.

"Truly?" She sat up, propping herself up on her hand and staring down at him, a small frown puckering her brow.

"Aye, truly." His eyes remained closed, knowing that she would be able to detect the falseness in his words.

"You know, you're supposed to be nice to girls." She huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair from her dirty face.

"Exactly, girls." He mumbled, opening his eyes so they resembled slits, and glancing sideways at her from beneath his tangled mess of hair and braids.

"I seem to recall, oh valiant knight, that you only spoke when you deemed it necessary." She pouted and glanced at him but then did a double take when she realised his lack of protection. "Where is your armour?!" The question was loud and he was awarded with a thump to the chest that hurt her more than it did him.

"Gods woman!" He growled, catching her wrist so she could not hit him again. She frowned at him, this time from anger rather than simple annoyance.

"You're supposed to wear your armour when you come scouting." She huffed and waited for him to respond. When he didn't, refusing to admit that he sometimes despised feeling confined by the leather that was worn in order to protect his body, she grew even more aggravated. This was the one of the first times she'd caught him without it. "Tristan!"

This time he was kicked in the side of the leg by boots that were at least two sizes too big for the young woman's petite feet. He released her wrist and stood and she followed him. Tristan was tall, at least a foot taller than the woman who stood before him. His build was that of an agile warrior; lean and tall with muscular arms to wield his sword. His hips were narrow yet he stood strong and firm on legs that were accustomed to running through fields and darting through woods and spending days on horseback.

In comparison, the woman was much shorter and would have curves if she ever ate a proper meal. With hair that reminded him of honey laced with strands of gold, a tawny shade rarely seen on this island, and wide, cat-like eyes that appeared more of a cornflower blue in the light, it was easy to tell that she was not of this land. Her skin was darker than most from having spent days in the sun and small freckles were splattered across her high cheekbones and button nose. Some men who liked to look at exotic things might have called her pretty but to many she would simply be too strange to be considered beautiful in any sense of the word. To Tristan, however, she reminded him of home and held a welcoming beauty in his eyes, even splattered in mud with leaves and twigs tangled in her hair. She was a woman with a wild heart and an even wilder disposition.

He'd always found it odd that she'd shave her skin free of hairs. She said she found it more comfortable that way and her exposed, sun kissed legs beneath her ripped breeches were always smooth and bare as a new born babe, along with other body parts. It was something that her mother and older sister had done, she told him. Her clothes were often ripped and stolen and she refused anything Tristan ever brought her bar a few apples or other foods, if there was a lull in the amount of Roman groups that would visit Hadrian's Wall and the fort that Tristan was posted at.

They continued to stare at one another, his dark, almost black, liquid eyes boring into her considerably lighter ones. Her full, sculpted lips, which naturally fell into a pout and seemed almost too big for her heart shaped face, were pressed together in a thin line and her face was scrunched into a scowl that most women would dare not shape their face into. He simply stared at her, his face impassive.

"Remember your armour next time, scout." She hissed, growing agitated with the man before her. It was the norm for him to find a way beneath her skin and yet, they both knew her anger was a product of her caring for him.

He nodded and in that moment all was forgiven. For most, the change in her moods would be dizzying and disorientating but Tristan found her animated personality interesting. Being so used to being impassive and stoic, he always found it fascinating that she displayed every single one of her emotions for the world to see. And yet, most of the time she could read him as if he was an open book, written in a language that only she understood.

"How long is it now?" She asked, leaning back against a tree, bracing herself against the bark with her fingertips. It was a question she asked often, whenever they could meet.

"Three more years" He answered, his want for freedom igniting like a fire in his belly.

"So soon." She spoke, lost in her own thoughts. "It seems like only yesterday we met. And yet it's been almost ten years."

He nodded, the image of a scrawny, dishevelled girl appearing in his mind. She was safe here from the Woads, ignoring his past invitations to join him at the wall once a friendship was formed between the two. Although hardly any strayed this far south, any that did soon met the cold sting of his blade, the last thing they felt before they left this world. And he had taught her how to protect herself long ago.

"Soon you'll be free." She smiled at him, a soft smile that always warmed a little piece of his heart. "And then we can go home."

"Aye" He couldn't help let a small smile grace his lips, a smile that she loved and cherished each one she was awarded with.

"Then we can go home."

_**And there we go guys. It took me ages and ages to write but I'm still not sure if I'm happy with it! Anyway, the next chapter should hopefully be up soon enough! I know it's a little confusing but hopefully it'll become clear in the next few chapters! Until then you guys!**_

_**All my love,**_

_**As always,**_

_**Spread A Little Happiness**_

_**xooxoox**___


	2. Chapter 2

_**Just to remind everyone; I'm not a historian but I do the best I can to research things. Many things including armour and such will not be accurate. I think this calls for my creative license to be used! I hope this doesn't bother anyone too much! **_

_**Thanks so much to everyone who read the last chapter! A special thank you to those who favourite or alerted this story!**_

_**I give you chapter two of The Voice of Home! Enjoy, dear readers!**_

**The Voice Of Home – Chapter Two **

The next time they met, more than a fortnight had passed and the moon was beginning to grow full and fat. It was not unusual for there to be such a large gap between their meetings; he had duties to attend to and she had to survive. She had recently travelled much further north than usual, the lack of Roman journeys forcing her to seek supplies elsewhere: an estate so far north of the wall that she wondered how they even survived. The village had been starving and desolate but the main house had been filled with delicious food and weapons that were easily stolen from under the nose of the fat, Roman lord whose expanding waist indicated that he cared little about what happened to his people. It was surprisingly easy for a single person to move through the forest. The Woads seem to ignore her for the most part and she was grateful though she had a suspicion that they had no qualms with her stealing from Romans.

"Do you have any need for a horse at the wall?" She asked when he found her in the forest, appearing as if he was some sort of ghost: silent and unearthly.

He cocked his head to the side, the reins of his own horse clutched loosely in his hand. She indicated the horse that was currently sniffing along the forest floor, relieved of her saddle and bridle. The young woman's tunic was in shreds and just barely contained her modesty, worse than when he'd seen her last, and she had a new dagger strapped across her thigh.

"I have no use for her." She continued, knowing that she had at least some of his attention even if his gaze was currently wandering around the small clearing she had returned to.

They had been here before, she knew from the trees and its distance from the open field that led to the wall. When he didn't answer, she stood and made her way over to untie the small length of frayed rope that was tethering the horse to a tree. The beast trotted further away and she watched it disappear into the shadow of the trees, letting the rope slip between her dirt covered fingers. A scorching hand on her exposed hip caused her to tense subconsciously. When slightly dry lips brushed across her bare shoulder just above her markings, however, she relaxed and turned to face the fierce scout who now stood behind her, his hand remaining on her hip.

She smiled as he moved his hand to entwine his long, calloused fingers with hers and began leading her towards his cloak that he had spread across a patch of soft moss, his remembered leather breast plate and vambraces left to one side. It had been a while since they had lain together and frequently she feared that mayhap he had others at the fort, other woman who weren't almost always covered in mud or blood, or both. But now was not the time to ask such questions. Fires burned in both of them and she could feel that pleasant warmth of desire curl in her lower abdomen.

When both their desire had been sated they rested together, the scout clad in merely his breeches as she had donned his long, earth coloured tunic. It smelt distinctly of Tristan and she couldn't help but smile as she lay next to him, her arm thrown across his body. She went from staring up at the sky that had lightened and was now a light shade of blue, to staring at him, his arms crossed behind his head and his sword within arm's reach. Although he appeared asleep, she knew he would never let his guard down. She stretched out her legs, her muscles sore and stiff and she knew that bruises would be dotted along her hip and side by the morrow. A short yet painful descent from her stolen horse was the reason for her tender skin and yet she would never tell Tristan of her injuries. She did not wish for him to think of her as weak and unable to ride a horse. In fact, she was actually quite a good rider but had been too focused on Tristan's hawk in the sky that she failed to see a low branch in her path and was knocked from her horse.

"Kyrie." Her name rumbled through his chest.

Oh how she loved how he spoke her name in his raspy voice, his accent causing her name to sound pretty and feminine instead of strange as it often sounded to her own ears when she spoke it in her own voice.

"Wall."

It was not a demand, she knew that much. It was simply a request for her to join him at the wall. Both knew that the cold season would be here soon, the season of the sun having ended a month before. Already Kyrie could sense some of the change in the leaves, the green beginning to drain and turning to burnt oranges and fire reds. And yet the pines would remain forever green. When the cold did hit, Kyrie was often forced further south or towards the sea in order to survive where she would find work at taverns or other such places if she was accepted. Her absence was always apparent to Tristan who could almost pinpoint the day she left. He would never say it but he missed her when she went away and often worried for her.

"You always become so sentimental at times like these." She giggled softly, referring to both the times when the colder months were ominously drawing closer and after they lay together.

He would often say things he would usually keep to himself or leave unsaid when her warm body and soft skin were pressed against him. In response he simply made a grunting noise but then fell silent. Kyrie knew that to join him at the wall could mean the end of this, of being with him. He was a knight and she knew that it would be difficult for him to keep a woman and perform his duties. Like this, in the forest, they could go their separate ways afterwards, wishing that their partner remained safe and well until they next met. And at the wall, Kyrie would be caged, forced to abide by their laws, to act in a way they deemed acceptable. She knew she would not fit amongst the dark haired, pale maidens that called the fort their home that she often saw travelling to and from the fort. She didn't even dare compare herself to the roman noble women with their stunning dresses and silk hair.

"If I was to join you at the wall, then our brothers would learn your best kept secret." She continued softly, drawing patterns across his bare chest that was littered with scars. "They do not know of me and mayhap you prefer it that way."

Knowing that he could hear the slight sadness that laced her voice, she sat up and hugged her knees to her chest. She had learned long ago that it was useless to try to hide anything from him and so she had become someone unable to conceal their emotions. Cursing softly beneath her breath, she scrubbed at her cheek where a stray tear had left a track. She knew that she was too different to walk among the others and that, although she knew that Tristan thought of her as beautiful, others would not. He knew she wanted to be with him, to protect him and to share his life. It was obvious that he knew of her wants and it was obvious that he also knew of her fear of the large fort. But she had told herself when she was much younger that this would be the price to pay if she continued stealing these unforgettable moments with him: forced to be away from him for so long.

"You do not like being kept my secret." This time it was a statement and he could feel her sorrow even though he could not see her face.

"It matters not" She spoke clearly and rose from his cloak, pulling on her torn breaches that hugged the hips that had once been moulded against his body and had been his anchor as he'd claimed her. "Do not worry about this silly girl. I would remain forever as your secret, if only to have these moments with you. You have already promised me so much when we return home, why try to intrude on your life now?"

She nodded to herself, as if that marked the end of their conversation. It was not only Tristan that got sentimental at times like these when their bodies were still echoing with the pleasure that had already passed. Why should it matter to her so, if he lay with those other women at the wall and kept her a secret from her fellow Sarmatians? She had his future, one that he had promised her fully.

"Aye, it does." He continued, frustrated that she would not turn to face him so she could see clearly in his eyes what he was trying to portray with words. He was never very eloquent but, usually, he need not be around her.

"Nay, my knight, it makes no difference." She answered and glanced at him over her shoulder, her face pulling up into a smile. His gaze heated her face and she tried to decipher what exactly he was trying to tell her. "I'm afraid, Trissie, that this time you're going to have to use your words."

"I wish you not to think that you are merely a secret to me." He spoke, frustrated at how dense she was being. Hoping to end his part of the conversation and communicate without his strained words, he turned his face slightly to the side and let his hair fall from his face so that she might better see what he was trying to tell her.

Moving until she sat before him, she reached for his hand and held it in two of her much smaller ones. She traced the lines across his palm, her eyes following the trails her finger made. The skin was rough and calloused from wielding weapons. These were hands that were used, hands of a warrior. And yet she knew that these hands could please her until she screamed his name in ecstasy, hands that were often so gentle against her skin as if she would shatter like glass if he pressed against her too hard. She was slightly startled when his other hand reached up to tilt her face towards him, her eyes being drawn to a gaze that could settle fear into the belly of any man and yet she craved it, those dark eyes warming her from the inside out.

"Is it your form that stops you?" He asked, unsure of how else to phrase it.

"Aye my scout, it is." She chuckled through her tears that streaked down her face and dribbled off the end of her chin.

"Gawain." He simply grunted, referring to the blonde haired knight that Kyrie had seen while she was spying on Tristans' brothers, her brothers. She knew that they meant much to her even if they knew naught of her existence.

"I doubt Gawain is forced to wear a dress." She mumbled, looking away from his eyes as she knew that it was a weak argument.

"Wear what you like, I will not care." She knew that he was becoming a little more frustrated with her but his patience for her always lasted much longer than she expected.

"Then you would not mind people staring as we walk together?" She challenged, not knowing that people already snuck, what they believed to be, secret glances and stares at the knight who many believed was the bringer of death.

He simply continued to stare at her, those dark pools unwavering as they devoured her face. Eventually she met his gaze once again, the tears drying and leaving trails down her freckled face. She knew that he would never mind her by his side. Tristan may be a man of pride and honour but she was a part of that pride, despite what she looked like.

"Aye my scout, I know you would not." She whispered, continuing to gaze at him. "I would not wish to bother you and I would miss being able to track you on your duties but it seems that little Romans pass this way now. Perhaps it would be better if I stayed at the wall during the cold season. Arthur would not mind?"

She watched, pleased with herself, as a small smile worked its way across his face. It was subtle, as his mouth rarely pulled up into a full smile that was often painted across her face. Still, she knew he was pleased with her decision and she caught the subtle shake of his head. Arthur would never turn someone away who sought shelter.

Her looks may be different to those of this land yet she was no fool. She fully understood Tristan's feelings for her and she had no need for him to remind her of them. His actions spoke louder than his scarcely used words. Content with the idea of her finally settling at the fort, he pressed his lips against hers once more before standing and digging a spare tunic from his saddle bag.

"You are a sly one." She chuckled, his previous tunic feeling soft and warm against her skin, his willingness to simply give her his tunic warming her heart and contracting a smile from her.

"Be ready when I see you next." He turned to look at her as he strapped on his leather gauntlets.

Nodding, she moved towards him and helped to lace up his leather breast plate. Her fingers made fast work of the laces and she watched as he strapped his sword onto his back. His quiver was attached to his saddle, his bow lying across his lap. Once mounted, he reached down and captured her lips once more. She stood on tiptoe, hands braced against his strong thigh.

"Until I see you next." This was her way of bidding him farewell, refusing to utter the words that would seem so permanent. He said nothing.

A sigh escaped her and was capture by the breeze as his disappeared into the shade of the tree and out of her sight. A familiar chill worked its way down her spine and into her bones. Praying to the pagan deities, that she barely remembered from her childhood, she hoped that their paths would cross soon, if only just to see him. She would be happy, however, to prolong the time she had before her arrival at the fort.

Throwing one last glance in the direction he has disappeared, Kyrie turned the opposite way and vanished into the trees, her dagger strapped to her upper thigh and her fingers hovering lazily over it. It would offer little protection if she was attacked by rogues and she needed to hunt soon, her stomach rumbling in answer to her thoughts.

She needed a bow.

_**And there we go! So I'm hoping that most of the chapters in this story will be around this length. I know it seems slow now but hopefully it'll pick up soon enough and become less confusing! I would really love to hear from you and I appreciate every single review that I get so if you have the time, please leave me one! **_

_**Thanks again and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**_

_**All my love,**_

_**Spread A Little Happiness**_

_**xooxoox**_____


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